Shattering One's Reflection
by DarkmoonSigel
Summary: Co-written with sku7314977 on AO3. A trippy little AU where monsters are real, the FBI has a department to deal with them, and almost everyone has a power of some sort, except for Hannibal who is pretending to be something he is not. Not Beta Read M/M Empath Will and Wendigo Hannibal
1. Chapter 1

The woman laid in a pool of her own blood, her face a grim parody of a smile. It ruined her once lovely visage. Will Graham looked down at her with gore encrusted knife still in hand, and tried to remember that he didn't kill her. A ghoul had, one newly turned by the looks of it, someone who had once been her friend, a person she had once trusted in life.

"She knew her killer." Will called out hoarsely. He wondered if he had screamed again. Sometimes that happened during reconstructions, when he was reliving the past thinking of others. He had taken off his gloves at one point, his hands covered in blood made stickier from congealing. He always seemed to be wearing red in some way or another. A shuffle of movement let Will know that Jack and the others were still standing right outside the dead woman's bedroom. In a way, it comforted him to have people there even if he always worked alone. He had to. It was safer that way for everyone.

"You wanna tell me why you're holding the murder weapon and contaminating the crime scene?" were Jack Crawford's select words of comfort upon entering the room. He closed the door quickly behind him to keep the rest out for now. Startled, Will dropped the knife, having forgotten that he had been holding it at all.

"You know I work through touch." Will muttered, hoping Jack wouldn't notice how his hands shook as he tucked them out of sight. Shuffling back, he became aware that he was still crouching in the blood pool as well. Thankfully, his scarlet robes would hide most of the stains. Like all empaths, rare as they were, Will had to wear the color of his class. The bright color of cardinals and warning signs held significant meaning. It was meant to repel others from him, told them to keep their distance. It was common knowledge that empaths did not respond well to touch. The same went for the person stupid or careless enough to do the touching. Safeguards were woven into all cloaks of orders and classes especially the red ones, little magics to keep power in and if necessary, others away.

"You've never had to touch the weapon before." Jack said with loaded concern. Will knew the man worried for him was at war with everything that went bump in the night, and Will was one of his best tools to catch the monsters with.

"And if memory serves, you've actively avoided all kinds of contact with the deceased before. Now I find you standing over the victims with the murder weapon in hand. What's changed?"

"I got lost in the reconstruction." Will bit out the words, his tone bitter. It was the closest thing to the truth though. It still wasn't a good sign though, no matter how he phrased it.

"Will…you don't get lost." Jack said slowly. Will wondered if this was going to be another conversation that 'didn't happen'. They had been having quite a few of those lately.

"But I did…just for a second." Will admitted shakily, damning as it was to do so. If he lost control, Will knew he could expect to spend the remainder of his life in a padded room, far away from other people. He would only get that outcome if he didn't kill anyone by accident when he went nova. Will wasn't big on social contact to begin with, but he loved his freedom.

"Go and get cleaned up. Take a break. We'll talk more when you're done." Jack snapped as he flung the door open. With their team, Will knew that they couldn't keep them out in the hall forever before something went awry. Even now, Will could feel worried eyes upon him from others as Jack stalked past them, Will following in tow. Like hounds wanting to released, the alchemists wanted to unleash their skills, using their twisted science to find the killer. Beverly, Brian, and Jimmy were bright things spilling into the room, dressed in the golden robes of their order. They made Jack stick out like a sore thumb when he was among them, the dark robes of his office dull in comparison to Will's and their own.

Once downstairs, Will was allowed a moment's peace to wash off the blood, at least what he could. He kept his hands in the icy water longer than he should have, liking how it burned. It also gave Will a fleeting reason to ignore Jack for now. "This has given me cause for concern." Jack voiced as soon as Will turned off the tap, the words so impatient they were spoken to his back. Jack had a perfect view of how the muscles tensed up along Will's spine from the verbal assault.

"Really, Jack? Cause for concern…Mm." Will shook his hands dry to throw an incredulous look over his shoulder at Jack before putting back on his gloves. "You know what this does to me. What looking does. It's not good for me."

"Your bad luck that you're the best." Jack stated. "Are you breaking, Will? Have I broken you?"

The curious case and abilities of Will Graham had been a concern of the bureau for some time now. When Jack had proposed to bring the empath into his division, there had been considerable objection. Everyone knew that Will fell on the spectrum somewhere, more monster than man.

"Do you have anyone unbroken who does this better than me broken?" Will smiled, the expression etched into his face in a tragic manner. His humor always seemed to fall flat despite his best attempts.

"Fear makes you rude, Will." Jack sighed, suddenly feeling as tired as Will looked.

"You need help." "Who can help me, Jack? I'm 'special'." Will spat out the last word like it were bile. That damn word pretty much described his entire life. He was unique, the only one of his kind in a way. One of the most powerful empaths ever born, but unlike others of his kind though, he had been born without a spirit guide. It essentially made him a bomb ticking down without a clock.

No one knew why, but all telepaths and empaths were born with guides that acting like a source of stability and focus for them. A telepath's companion was physical, usually an animal of some sort, though trees and plants had been used in certain cases. Their guides usually found them or were found by the age of two. Depending on what kind of animal it was, a telepath could have several guides in their lifetime. An empath's guide was always spiritual, and could manifest as anything, but did so at birth and stayed with them until death, the outline of the being present beside the baby at all times until the child had more control. In the curious case of Will Graham, he was the only known exception to this rule, and no one knew why. To his kind, he was like a ship without an anchor.

Telepaths methods lay best through touch, while empaths worked through line of sight. Whether due to lack of guide or not, Will could work through both. Because of this, Will wore his scarlet cloak and gloves at all times. False glasses over his eyes broke accidental line of sight as well. Unfortunately, none of it was working anymore for Will. The world was starting to seep in past the bone forts of his mind, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"That's not true. There is therapy." Jack pointed out to receive a sour look from Will.

"Therapy doesn't work on me. I know all the tricks." Will snorted. "And need I remind you of the last person who tried to get inside my head?"

Abel Gideon had once been a famous telepath, considered one of the best in his field. He had also been greedy and over confident. In one session, he had tried to force his way into Will's head, past all his defenses, the considerable things that they were and there for a reason. The result was like a round of Molotov cocktails hitting a pool of gasoline. Abel Gideon was never going to know who he was ever again. By meddling with Will's mind, the end result had left his own a blank slate. People were still trying to piece back his identity for him, but all Gideon would do was sit in his cell and parrot back any stories they told him about himself. At one point, Abel Gideon had even believed that he had butchered his wife and her family on Thanksgiving.

An empath's mind was like mirror. People gifted with this power would reflect back life, at least in some aspect. Sometimes it was just emotions, for other memories. For Will though, it was everything, the uniquely gifted man able to take on anyone's point of view whether they were living or dead. Instead of his mind being one mirror that could be directed, Will's mind was a vast array of mirrors that were held and suspended at all angles to catch every point of light and dark he came across. Secrets came to him willingly, even the ones he had no wish to witness. He didn't just reflect. He absorbed.

"No. I haven't forgotten, Gideon." Jack muttered. The only reason Will was not locked up with his former therapist was because Gideon had recorded his session with the equally famous empath, so his misconduct was not only obvious but documented. It had been ruled in Will's favor that he had acted in self defense, but the ruling had drawn more critics down upon him. Using the guise of public safety, there were those who wanted to see Will under lock and key to study him.

"I need you to keep your head together until I can find a solution." Jack said. His words made Will laugh, the sound of it low and almost heartbreaking to hear.

"Shake it off. Keep on looking. Got it." Will chuckled dryly. They had a ghoul to catch after all. No rest for the wicked, he supposed as Will reentered the house to hunt down something he could make contact with. The answer to the ghoul's identity lay in the dead woman's past, in the shattered mirror of her blank eyes. Jack watched Will go with a worried look on his face.

OoOoO

"You promised you'd cover him, Jack!"

Jack winced despite himself at the verbal barrage, each word weighted with power. The peacock echoing the complaint didn't help matters either. Alana was furious enough to let her control just begin to slip, her animal companion voicing it loudly in tandem. He didn't know if she was doing it intentionally or not, her rage an almost tangible thing or that could have been her just projecting onto him. Alana being a telepath, it was entirely possible, but it was probably hurting more because Jack knew deep down that she was right. He had promised.

"I am doing my best, but I need your advice on how." Jack tried to placate the powerful woman who leaned up against his desk to loom over him. The peacock spreading its wings and tail menacingly further impressed that image upon him.

"Take him out of the field." Alana snapped, crossing her arms over her chest with an air of finality.

"You know I can't do that. I need him in it." Jack sighed in frustration. This conversation was already turning back into old territory. The two of them had always been at odd about Will's placement. Usually the man just taught at the academy and was perfectly safe doing that, though his skill set was being woefully underused there in Jack's opinion. "He's saving people's lives."

"What about his life?! Will isn't just some tool you can use until he breaks!" Alana fumed as she reached up a hand to soothe her guide, something that Jack was very grateful for. Peacocks could get exceptionally loud.

"So help me keep him together." Jack said, taking even deep breathes. Alana's control was slipping, the weight of her anger bearing heavily down upon him. "Let him quit." Alana said, easing up.

"I told him he could. He decided to continue." Jack told her, which for the most part was true. He was careful to leave out his part of that conversation.

"Damn it, Jack!" Alana was quick on the uptake though, already having a good idea in mind about how that went. "Fire him then."

"Fire my top empath profiler? Freddie Lounds would have a field day with that. My bosses and Will's critics as well." Jack growled out, growing weary from the tide of Alana's power. It was beginning to wear on his training. The two glared at each other for a moment.

"Look…" Jack broke the standoff between them first. "Will needs a support system. You're his friend…"

"And that's all I can be to him." Alana interrupted, already knowing where Jack was going with this. "My own nature works against me in this area."

Telepaths and empathy did not mix projected. Empaths absorbed. Push and pull. In a standoff between the two, it was only a matter a time and power level whether it was the prism or the mirror that shattered first. It complicated matters further that Will could do both.

"There has to be someone…" Jack sighed.

"Oh!" Alana perked up, her face alight with an idea.

"Oh good or oh bad?" Jack mused, really hoping for the former.

"I just might know who."

OoOoO

"I hate being this neurotic." the low level empath sobbed as he reached for yet another tissue. Biting back a long suffering sigh, Hannibal knew this was the reason he kept the box on his side. To make matters worse, he couldn't eat Franklin. The man was a patient, and besides that, Hannibal had standards.

"Your empathy, as low level as it is, causes your anxiety to run abnormally high. Your brain is not meant to deal with such high concentrations on a constant basis." Hannibal worked to keep the boredom out of his tone, hitting professional evaluation levels perfectly. Much to Hannibal's annoyance, Franklin sobbed in answer, blowing his nose messily into the tissue to drop the soggy mess onto Hannibal's glass top table. Hannibal's sanguine eyes flickered from the snot rag to the empath and back again, hoping that Franklin would take the hint for once in his life, that his empathy would be good for something. It was a futile gesture of course, but Hannibal considered himself to be an optimist.

"Franklin…" Hannibal said solemnly enough to get the man's full attention. "When the lion is in the room, you will know it."

Which was one of the most bold faced lies Hannibal had ever uttered, the wendigo smiling to itself. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing, or more accurately, a monster wearing a very well tailored person suit. With Franklin's session finally over, and not a moment too soon in his opinion, Hannibal escorted the man out. Franklin had a tendency to linger otherwise if he did not actively show the man to the door.

Settling in behind his desk to catch up on some sketching, Hannibal was interrupted by an unexpected knock on his office door. Glancing at his ledger and his watch for confirmation, Hannibal wondered who it could be as he answered the door. His patients were a select few, Hannibal catering to Baltimore's elite who were the only ones who could afford to pay his fees. To his pleasant surprise, Hannibal found Alana Bloom there waiting for him with peacock perched on her shoulder.

"Do you have an appointment?" Hannibal asked severely, his tone intentionally grave.

"Do you have a beer?" Alana countered, smiling widely back at him. The force that she was made Hannibal grin back.

"Come in." Hannibal invited, delighted with his company. Alana was one of the few humans he could stand and actually enjoyed keeping company with. She was entertainment, not duty or food, even if her peacocks could be noisy at times. "This is unusual. What brings you to my office at this time of day?" Hannibal asked as he handed his former student a tall glass of dark beer.

"I have a favor to ask but one I think you'll find interesting enough to say 'yes' to." Alana said, humming in pleasure into her drink after her first sip.

"I'm already intrigued. Do tell." Hannibal prompted, hoping it was something actually worth his time and attention. He got bored so easily, but Alana didn't ask favors from him often though. It might be in his best interests to comply for now.

"I have a friend. A very special friend, someone that I would like to protect. He needs help and I would like you to meet him." Alana said slowly, trying to choose her words well. She knew Hannibal appreciated words.

"Are you trying to set me up on a date?" Hannibal arched a brow at her as he poured himself a glass of red wine. "Because I have to tell you while I am flattered, my social calendar is rather full…"

"No, no, no. I mean as a patient. Kinda…Sorta." Alana interrupted. Hannibal could forgive her for that because she looked so flustered, her cheeks flaring red.

"A sort of patient?" Hannibal asked instead. "A patient in an unofficial capacity." Alana amended. "Whatever for?" Hannibal said, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"He doesn't like psychiatrists…or doctors, for that matter." Alana said, taking a long sip of beer to buy herself some time.

"Well, that does make things rather difficult." Hannibal chuckled, taking a moment as well to scent his Amarone. "Why is this person so important to you? What makes him so special?"

"It's not like that. He's just a friend." Alana sighed. Her words didn't sound very convincing, even to her.

"Just a friend?" Hannibal teased with a slight smile.

"Stop that. Behave, doctor, or I won't tell you the interesting part." Alana feigned a glare at him. Hannibal motioned for her to cease her stalling and continue. "He's an empath without a spirit guide."

That information gave Hannibal reason to pause. "That's…very unusual." he allowed, at full attention now. "But you know I don't work with children."

"He's not a child. He works for the FBI." Alana fought to keep her expression neutral so she wouldn't break out into a grin.

"As what?" Hannibal asked despite himself, scenarios flashing through his mind.

"As a profiler who specializes in unusual deaths." Alana already knew the war was won. As a whole, Hannibal could be hard to read, but his focus was impossible to miss.

"And he's not insane?" Hannibal offered up, shocked at his own surprise. He had been expecting someone stationed behind a desk, enduring the normal stress of long hours and too much paperwork.

"No, but he's well on his way the rate Jack Crawford keeps pushing him." Alana muttered, her expression turning immediately grim as they got to the heart of the matter.

"I'll make him an appointment."

OoOoO

Unlike most of his patients, new or old, Will Graham did not sit across from him, or even try to use any of Hannibal's beautiful and very expensive furniture. Dressed fully in his scarlet cloak that covered him from head to toe with the hood pulled up to hide his head, the empath currently looked very much like a grumpy cardinal roosting overhead, peering at Hannibal through railings. Upon entering Hannibal's office, Will had immediately climbed up the ladder to the library and was quietly refusing to come down until their session was over.

"Are you comfortable? Would you like me to bring you a glass of water?" Hannibal called up. At the moment, he was letting things lay where they lie. Hannibal sat himself behind his desk, giving the impression that he was more intent on catching up on his paperwork than sparing any attention to his current company.

"I'm only here because Alana made me promise to come see you. I don't have to talk to you." Will grumbled back, sounding petulant about the whole ordeal.

"As am I." Hannibal said, peeking at Will in his peripheral. His comment seemed to perk the reclusive man's interest, the top of the cloak popping into clear view to glower down at the doctor. "I only agreed to see you because Alana made me promise as well." Hannibal explained further. "I have no interest in conversing with you either."

"You're friends with Alana?" Will sounded like he was curious even though he didn't want to be.

"Yes, though I was her mentor before that. I hold her in high regard, enough so to let her work her will on me. As you know, she can be very persuasive." Hannibal kept his tone light as he signed papers and skimmed over his notes. "I was hoping to keep that promise to its fullest by speaking with you."

"I don't find you that interesting." Will's head disappeared from view again.

"You could with a little effort on your part. Most people find they do in some aspect." Hannibal said, leaning back in his chair to regard Will who shifted and bobbed back into view.

"Do I hear narcissism?" Will shot back from the railings.

"Self confidence is healthy." Hannibal countered, wishing he could get a good look at his patient. He could see a hint of a stubbly chin from time to time, but everything else was hidden behind material and shadow.

"I wouldn't know." Will grumbled, taking to pacing. He could never keep still for very long.

"See. We are already starting to make progress." Hannibal chuckled, watching the empath wander about and study book titles.

"So what are you, Doctor? Animal, vegetable, or mineral?" Will asked the tomes, but loudly enough for the living to hear him as well. "Pardon me?" Hannibal's brow furrowed.

"Don't be coy. What's your power?" Will asked bluntly, turning around rapidly enough to flair out his cloak's edges like they were wings.

"Can't you tell?" Hannibal challenged, wondering how much of his true nature the extraordinary empath could pick up on. The distance Will had already put between them bespoke of an unconscious need for advantage and safety. Whether Will allowed himself to acknowledge it or not, a part of him already knew that the proverbial lion was in the room.

"Usually I can. You're difficult to read." Will leaned forward as much as he dared over the railing, like his current proximity would get him a better read on Hannibal. "You're like a moving shadow suspended on dust and not enough light."

"How does that make you feel?" Hannibal asked in amusement, already knowing how cliché it sounded. Will didn't seem to appreciate his humor though. He was delighted with Will's evaluation of him.

"How does it make you feel?" Will shot back with contempt, edging away from the railing again.

"Comfortable. It sounds like you haven't completely made up your mind about me." Hannibal said. For all Will's lack of social graces, he could speak prettily enough. When he made associations, they were interesting. There was an intelligence there, extremely guarded but definitely present. "The reason you can't sort out what I am is because I am a null, a Negate being a proper term for it. I take away other people's powers for a short period of time while they are in my close proximity. I can make them go away longer with physical contact, though not permanently."

That pretty little lie got Will's attention again, the empath's pacing becoming quicker in step with nervous energy.

"Nulls are rare." Will pointed out when he finally came to a standstill.

"Empaths without guides are even rarer." Hannibal countered to watch Will quaver between questions, needs, and wants.

"Do you think that it would work on me?" Will asked hesitantly, the hope there sounded strained and painful.

"The effect would only be temporary. At best, I could only offer you a reprieve from yourself, not a solution." Hannibal said with great care. He couldn't risk being found out this early in the game. Nulls or Negates were indeed very rare which was why Hannibal had chosen to emulate one. Not a lot was known about nulls because half the time, they didn't know it themselves and could pass off as a normal people. A null could live their entire lives without ever knowing about their power. As a wendigo, his powers were greater than most humans so Hannibal just tended to ignore the effects or just overwhelm them entirely with his own nature. It was one of the reasons he picked and chose his patients.

"How did you find out you were a null?" Will asked, the empath stuffing his own personal hurt back in its box. He already knew no one could save him from himself.

"From an unfortunate event that occurred during my childhood. You'll forgive me if I do not go into detail about it." Hannibal answered smoothly. "And yourself?"

"I've always known what I am. What I am missing." Will mouthed out the words bitterly. He was a lock without a key. He was incomplete.

"And what are you?" Hannibal pressed, curious to hear what Will would say about himself.

"Some say 'special. Most whisper 'freak'. The general consensus is that I'm going to go insane." Will shrugged, and perhaps he was. He sometimes saw himself as a man without a paddle floating in a canoe in the middle of a great lake, destined to never touch shore.

"What do you think?" Hannibal gauged.

"That I have a shelf life and am I rapidly approaching my expiration date." Will said sardonically. "Hence why I am here. Seeking therapy. Jack thinks I need a support group. Alana thinks I need a therapist."

"How would you feel about a friend instead?" Hannibal asked, enjoying how he could make the man overhead pause. The hood turned to regard him, the tilt of it denoting that he had Will's attention.

"Come again?" Will sputtered out.

"We could just socialize like adults. Perhaps even act friendly with one another?" Hannibal proposed, watching Will edge toward the railing again.

"How do you see me?" the empath asked, his tone wistful.

"Alone and lonely." Hannibal answered as bluntly as he could without hesitation. He knew Will would appreciate the honesty.

"Yup, that's me in a nutshell. Well spotted." Will leaned back to slow clap but did not depart again.

"As am I." Hannibal told him causing Will to grow very still at the admittance, which was truer than he knew. "But you're…" Will began, gesturing down at Hannibal who echoed it.

"I'm what?" Hannibal picking up where Will had trailed off."For someone who doesn't like to be judged, would you do the same and condemn me because I wear a suit and like do my job well?"

"Touché. Well played, Doctor Lecter. You have made your point. What are you proposing?" Will said at last, his tone of voice subdued.

"Just a series of conversations. Nothing more, nothing less. You're not my patient. I am not your doctor. I'm just someone you can talk to when you feel like you need it." Hannibal offered, the taste of victory already sweetly glazing his mouth. The trap was being locked and loaded. All the fly had to do was come into the spider's parlor. He would be feasting soon enough on this man.

"Friends don't make appointment with one another." Will said, still putting up some resistance.

"Yes, they do. They call it breaks, lunch dates, and nights out." Hannibal corrected. At Will's power level, he would satisfy Hannibal for weeks, perhaps even months. "If it helps, you are welcome to come see me at my home instead of the office."

"Are you sure about that? You could be inviting a killer into your home." Will said, the warning making Hannibal smile.

"I'll take my chances."

OoOoO

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The world was a broken thing at night with all of the creepy crawlies coming out of the woodwork and the rot. Will's time awake was starting to blend in together with his nightmares to make his existence a waking dream. It was getting to the point that he couldn't tell the difference between imagining and reality anymore. Will felt like he was sleepwalking through life, not knowing when he was really awake anymore.

Tonight was no different. A girl had been left to bleed out on a bone tree made of antlers. She perfectly fit the profile of seven other missing girls, none of which had been found. Will had been called in by Jack to look at her, to see her killer and know what kind of monster it was.

"There was something wrong with the meat." Will muttered, running shaky hands down his face. He wanted to throw up, getting a glimpse at what had torn out this girl's liver only to stuff the organ back into her cooling body.

"What kind of monster does that?" Jack demanded, circling the girl like her corpse personally offended him. Will supposed that it did in a way.

"It's not. It's just some cannibal." Will muttered, wishing his words sounded more absurd and less causal. He pulled his cloak over his head to hide his face from the others. It did nothing to stop the vicious replay of events in his own mind. He was killing this poor girl over and over again, her death rattle echoing through him as he strangled the life out of her.

"It's just a guy." "A man, like a human man? We can't waste time on this. Give whatever you find to the local PD or another department." Jack said in disgust, the agent not a happy man. He hated having his time wasted on normal killers. He had called Will in because he had thought for a hot moment that this might have been the work of a supernatural killer known as the Chesapeake Ripper. There was always one that managed to get away, and work themselves under the skin. In this case, the Ripper was Jack's own personal white whale.

"No, it wasn't. Well, not entirely human anyway." Beverly crowed from over the corpse, triumphantly holding up a sliver of twisted metal. It glowed a sickly shade of green from whatever spell she was using.

"He's a necromancer, or at least he's working himself up to be." Brian informed them, narrowing his eyes at the evidence as he drew glowing sigils into the air around it to have them flare back at him.

"And that puts that ball back in our court." Jimmy said, setting a ring of fire ablaze around the dead girl to cast her body in strange twisting shadows and light. It died down instantly with a wave of his hand, the alchemist reading information from the ash.

"There is your proof." "You got a visual on this guy, Will?" Jack sighed, seeing a whole lot of paperwork in his future.

"No. His features and form are blotted out. I get an impression…an intent. I understand his thinking, but nothing more than that. The necromancy must be corrupting his soul, turning him into something different, something I am unfamiliar with. That kind of thing can distort. Death magic is unpredictable at the best of times." Will reasoned out aloud, tilting his head back in thought as he tried to recapture what had aligned itself to his senses. This killer was still not too far gone, more man than monster yet. Whoever this was, he was killing out of love, not instinct. The concept and twisted reasoning behind it was making Will's head hurt. The intense love for another, someone close to this cannibal and held in high regard, was strong with this one.

"So we still have nothing. No bodies, no parts of bodies. No clues expect for her." Jack said, glaring at the dead girl. His complaints made Will stiffen.

"Then go hire an oracle if you don't like my answers. Better yet, come up with your own for once. You're the head of the department." Will muttered, regretting his words as soon as they left his mouth. He knew it was bad when even Brian was rendered speechless. Beverly's mouth was agape while Jimmy looked like he was trying not to laugh. Will very carefully avoided looking over at Jack. He could already feel the anger coming off of the man, his empathic powers giving it sound and clarity inside his head.

"I didn't hear that!" Jack bellowed, giving the newest nightmare of Will's mind life.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I'm just tired." Will said as he turned away and started to walk off, gathering his cloak close about him.

"Where are you going?" Jack yelled after him, but stayed where he was as he watched the empath make his escape.

"Home."

OoOoO

His pack greeted Will enthusiastically, something he was very grateful for. He knew he was bordering on the boundaries of animal hoarding, but he needed this unconditional love, this lack of judgment. His pack couldn't take the place of a guide, but their minds were simple, easy things to surround himself with. Of course, he was compensating for the lack of others in his life. Will knew he was, but it was better than going crazy. Alone and lonely. That was how Hannibal had described him. It should have made him angry. Instead, it just made Will feel tired. There was too much truth in those words to be ignored or dismissed. Will kept telling himself that they were not the reason he was picking up the phone and dialing Hannibal's numbers.

OoOoO

"Ah Will, please come in. Dinner is almost ready." Hannibal greeted Will upon opening the door to his impressive home.

"You didn't have to cook for me." Will told him in defense, crouching in his cloak as he pulled the heavy material closer to him like a shield. Though they were practically about the same height, but something about Hannibal that made Will feel small. He couldn't quite place his finger on it.

"Nonsense. As much as I enjoy cooking, I love good company even more so this works out well for the both of us." Hannibal said, standing aside to give the empath room when he noticed the man's hesitation. He couldn't risk Will running away now, not after making such leaps and bounds so early in their relationship. "May I take your cloak and gloves?"

"No!" Will said a little too loud and a little too quickly, securing his hood lower over his head to fully hide his face. "I'm sorry but no. It is better if I just leave them on. You don't want to me touching you or vice versa."

"You can if you want to." Hannibal offered more amused than offended, though he had killed before for less. Will's time would come soon enough. Until then, Hannibal simply wanted to see what the empath looked like. He was becoming bored with the few glances of unshaven chin and the mere suggestion of a mouth he got every once in a while.

"Excuse me?" The hooded man asked him in disbelief.

"You forget that it will have no effect on me being what I am, but if it makes you feel more comfortable, please feel free to leave them on. You are my guest, not my patient." Hannibal told him in soothing tones, though it would be pity. He wanted to see Will in his entirety by his own free will. There were spells and incantations woven in the scarlet material, little incantations that muddled his sight and control, and it annoyed him. Compliance made the meat sweeter in Hannibal's opinion.

Of all the powers that walked this earth, empaths were the most delicious, so full of feeling, like the foie gras of all the powers. With Will's pedigree, he would be like a golden goose. Being that he wasn't officially a patient with a paper trail or anyone knew where he was half the time mentally or physically, Will was the feast that presented itself. Anyone who knew him expected an unpleasant end to his story. Will was practically gift wrapped for the taking. Confident that his offer would be taken up by the lonely man, Hannibal had been waiting for Will to call him. He had gleaned from conversations with Alana that the empath lived alone out in the middle of nowhere. Will's late, out of the blue call meant no one knew that he was here either. Out of good manners, Hannibal refrained from telling Will he was what was for dinner.

"Would you like anything to drink before we eat? A glass of wine perhaps? I have a bottle opened already." and already drugged and enchanted, of course. Hannibal led Will further into the house, the empath still hiding in his cloak.

"Sure, if it's not too much trouble." Will mumbled. He found he was at a loss, not knowing how to act like a proper guest. His manners were rusty at best, all learned from childhood and not really used since then either. He realized belated that it might be considered rude to keep his cloak and gloves on inside a house that wasn't a crime scene, especially around a host who wouldn't be affected by his power.

While Hannibal was busy with the wine, Will slipped all the red off, feeling almost naked without it to fold the cloak and gloves over the back of a leather chair. Probably not the right place for them, but well within Will's reach if he suddenly needed the layers. He felt on edge for some reason, all the little hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. While Will tried to reason with himself, Hannibal returned soon enough with wine glasses in hand to find Will dressed plainly in faded clothing, jeans and a flannel shirt.

"Sorry. I'm severely underdressed. I usually wear the cloak everywhere. No point in having nice clothing if no one can see them. People usually just see the red anyway…focus on it…" Will cringed, tangling his hands together to keep them from nervously flying about. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so stripped down in front of another person.

"Don't apologize. I'm honored and thrilled that you feel comfortable enough to do so around me." Hannibal practically purred, handing off a glass of tainted wine to Will. He was so pleased with this new development. While pale and obviously not cared for by himself or other people, the empath was beautiful. With dark messy curls, delicate features, and clear blue grey eyes, Will had the visage Renaissance artists searched for all their lives in their muses. It was shame to hide such splendor, and Hannibal so loved his pretty things.

The spell in the wine worked well enough. No more than a few sips were needed before the nature of it kicked in. The induced sleep would feel natural though so that the victim would suspect nothing or try to fight its effect. As luck would have it, Will didn't know how to drink wine either. The man gulped the drink down, his nervous nature seeking out the escape and ease alcohol brought with it.

"Wow, this is good." Will licked his lips. All the wine he'd had in the past didn't really compare. Even better, Hannibal was already topping off his glass for him without being asked to. Will was grateful for that, slugging down his second helping.

"I'm glad you like it. Take care though. It is strong." Hannibal smiled into his own glass, taking a sip. The spell would have no effect on him, but Will had been accurate in his assessment. It was very good wine.

"I can feel that." Will blinked, his head already feeling too light for its own good. He realized that slamming down a glass of wine or two on an empty stomach might not have been a good idea.

"Would you like to lie down? Dinner won't be ready for a little while. Finishing touching and all that." Hannibal offered, already setting his wine glass aside to take Will's hand. The empath jerked back to avoid his touch, more out of habit than offense. Hannibal was not to be detoured though, catching Will's hand in his own to hold it to him. The empath wasn't in any position to argue or fight back, letting himself be lead to a couch in front of a fire. It was like heaven to be placed upon, Will going from vertical to horizontal without even knowing how he managed to accomplish such a feat all on his own. Letting himself sink into the plush cushion, the last thing Will saw before he closed his eyes was Hannibal looming over him, his skin black as soot and his head horned. With a sigh, Will fell fast asleep.

Shaking his head at the unconscious empath, Hannibal knelt down beside him to run his hand through dark curls, soft fine things that felt like warm satin to the touch. It was time for the fun part, a bit of show before dinner.

OoOoO

Frozen in place upon entering Will's mind, Hannibal stared wide eyed all around him. Having entered many a mind before, the wendigo generally found that humans were dull things, unimaginative and easy to navigate for the most part. And yet, he stood in a silver forest made entirely out of mirror shards and fishing hooks. As he looked around, Hannibal realized he had to reevaluate everything he knew about Will. Transforming to protect himself from the hostile environment, Hannibal took on his ravenstag form as he stalked through a razor wood, the gleaming leaves casting sharp light about in all directions. A blue moon high overhead was the only source of light in this place, casting eerie shafts of icy light about like sickles.

Even as a ravenstag, Hannibal found that he couldn't go far, the wood shifting and moving itself all around him in subtle movements. The trees boxed him in with branches that tried to hook his flesh, and decided his path for him when he resisted. When Hannibal tried to forge his own way with lowered antlers, he discovered that the leaves were just as keen as they looked, easily sinking into his pelt to make him bleed black blood over steel and silver. Even his magic didn't seem to have much effect, only blackening the glass and corroding the metal in places. It all kept pressing forward upon him despite his best attempts. The triune part of Will's mind was a beautiful and terrible place, and it knew that Hannibal was dangerous. It was fighting back the best it could by forming its own trap for the wendigo all around the creature.

When Hannibal was forced into a clearing of sorts, he wondered why he hadn't been struck down. The forest seemed quite capable of doing it all its own. Stamping his hoof, Hannibal toyed with the idea of leaving this place, and trying again later. He would have to build a foundation of trust within Will to keep this sort of thing from happening again. If he could appease the empath's instincts, the man's death would be an assured thing. He could always just kill Will while he was defenseless and sleeping, but that lacked allure. Hannibal wanted to consume everything that was Will, and that included his mind. By killing him flat out before getting to the good part, it would be like having a truffle without its rich center. Hannibal was not in the habit of denying himself any sort of pleasure.

Just as Hannibal prepared himself to leave, it was Will who found him, and not the other way around. It was a disconcerting turn of events. Hannibal was used to hunting down his prey in their own minds, and eating them there before he consumed their flesh in the real world. He was supposed to the hunter, not the hunted. The reversal in roles did not sit well with him, the ravenstag huffing out mist and annoyance. In the clearing that glittered madly like shattered diamonds, Hannibal stood still at its center. He let Will come to him, curious to see how Will would react to his intrusion. It might be worth be observing before he came to a final decision of exiting. Attacking Will would be unwise, what with the aware forest of keen blades all around them. Upon noticing him, most people screamed and fled, but Will just kept right on coming until the human stood before the ravenstag.

Curious, Hannibal peered down to find Will staring up at him with a look that was something akin to wonder and awe. In regard to one of his true forms, Hannibal had never seen such an expression before on another's face. Inexplicably, there was no fear there. Against all rational thought or reason, Hannibal watched as Will reached for him in almost a childish manner, touching his neck to gently stroke his feathered fur. Hannibal didn't know what was going on, his hooves locked in place with shock. If that wasn't enough cause for concern, Will was crying. Tears were a natural part of fear, but those tears were accompanied by a stunning smile, one filled with such relief and so much love it almost physically hurt Hannibal to look at it. Love being directed toward him, all for him, the sides of his deer face being cupped by strong hands, and his dark crimson eyes peered into by stormy grey blue that glistened with unshed tears. He didn't even attempt to resist as his head was drawn downward so that Will could press his face to his own.

"Where have you been?" Will asked, his voice so kind and welcoming. He rubbed his moist cheeks against soft fur and feather, and wept a lifetime of questions into it. "What took you so long?"

Beneath Hannibal's hooves, the grass turned green and soft, losing its brittle sharp nature. The forest that surrounded them burst into vibrant color as mirrors shattered in on themselves to unfurl into the golden green shades of a emerald summer day.

"I've waited so long for you."

OoOoO

Back in the real world, Hannibal stared down at the empath. Instead of claiming his prize, Hannibal left Will peacefully sleeping on his couch, locked away comfortably in his own mind. Free of the empath's headspace at last, Hannibal studied the flesh he had planned to have for dinner. Alone and lonely. That was how Hannibal had described Will, and had inadvertently described himself. Perhaps he could change that. Eating Will was no longer an option. Hannibal was coming to a very important decision, one that would change everything for them both. He had still had time to make something before Will woke up, enough meat left over from his last kill to actually make something presentable.

When Will woke up, he would have his first taste of human flesh, but even more importantly, a taste of things yet to come.

OoOoO

TBC


End file.
